


Ice dreams

by That_Ginger_004



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ice Skating, Injury Recovery, M/M, figure skating, injuries, platonic gwen/merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:28:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Ginger_004/pseuds/That_Ginger_004
Summary: There’s a kind of ringing in his ears. It doesn’t quite feel right, that this has happened to him. He was supposed to be going to the World’s next month; supposed to be defending his title. He can’t do that with a broken ankle - hell, he can’t even walk with a broken ankle, let alone skate. On the TV, the reporter is still talking, and a clip of his 2014 Olympic routine is playing. Was that his peak? A sixteen year old upstart causing an outrage when he beat out all the favourites and took silver, only to fall and end his career before it’s even really taken off?In which Merlin is a pro figure skater, Gwen is a literal cinnamon bun, and Arthur is That Cute Guy from the physio.





	Ice dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So I meant to have this ready in time for the 2018 Winter Olympics but obviously that didn't happen bc I'm literal trash so.   
> Here's what wound up being six months of study procrastination one shitty paragraph at a time :)

The accident happened in 2016, at the world championships.

 

The ice was too rough. Officials were supposed to smooth the ice after every two groups - but, for whatever reason, it hadn’t happened before his routine. Merlin knew - he  _ knew _ \- the second he left the ground that the jump wasn’t going to end well. It felt like an eternity in the air, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Then his blade struck the ice, his ankle collapsed, and his world shattered. 

 

***

 

Merlin wakes up in hospital, and regrets it immediately. It hurts to breathe, his ankle throbs, and one look at the size of the cast it was in tells him that he’s in trouble. The TV in the corner is on, volume down low, broadcasting the days’ news. He watches with bated breath, and his fears are confirmed when the sports reporter appears in front of a familiar ice rink. Merlin reaches for the remote to increase the volume, groaning softly when it jostles his ankle. 

 

“... And in other news, figure skater Merlin Emrys took a nasty fall on the ice today. Emrys is a previous Olympic medallist, winning silver at the 2014 Games when he was only sixteen years old. Today’s competition was the final round of qualifiers for the 2016 Worlds - where the clear favourites are usually seen, and where Emrys was thought to be a shoe in for a medal. After the accident today, however, it’s not clear whether or not Emrys will be able to compete further. We are yet to hear the results of how bad the injury is, but a spokesperson from Emrys’ team has told us that he is yet to wake up, which does not seem to be…” 

 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Coach Gaius says, walking into the room and tearing Merlin’s attention away from the TV.

 

He looks tired. It’s probably Merlin’s fault. 

 

“Gaius,” Merlin croaks, “I don’t…”

 

“You took a nasty spill, Merlin, take it easy. Your Doctor will be here in a minute,”

Merlin closes his eyes for a second and looks away. He feels thick; heavy; sick at the prospect of facing the next few months. He’d taken rough falls before - of course he had, it was part of the job - but nothing like this. Nothing this bad. 

 

“Hi there, Mr Emrys? Glad to see you awake, I’m Doctor Wilson. How are you feeling?” Doctor Wilson says, walking into the room.

 

Merlin clenches his jaw, and looks at her. 

 

“Right. Silly question, I apologise. I just need to do a physical, then I’ll be able to answer any questions you have. Follow my pen please…” she smiles sympathetically. 

 

He tracks the pen with his eyes, then complies with the other tests she needed before asking his question. 

 

“How bad is it?” 

 

“Well the good news is that it will heal, and you should be able to get back to competing for the next season barring any complications. You have a lateral malleolus fracture. The injury was unstable when it came in, and we had intervene surgically. It is being supported by several metal screws, which we will remove in a month and a half if all goes well. You also have a mild concussion and a bruised rib cage, as well as some other pretty severe bruises.” she listed.

 

“There are… screws? In my leg?” Merlin asks, stuck for words. 

 

“It’s much more common than you might think,” Doctor Wilson replies. 

 

There’s a kind of ringing in his ears. It doesn’t quite feel right, that this has happened to him. He was supposed to be going to the World’s next month; supposed to be defending his title. He can’t do that with a broken ankle - hell, he can’t even walk with a broken ankle, let alone skate. Dimly, he can hear Gaius asking Doctor Wilson questions, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him. He feels numb. On the TV, the reporter is still talking, and a clip of his 2014 Olympic routine is playing. Was that his peak? A sixteen year old upstart causing an outrage when he beat out all the favourites and took silver, only to fall and end his career before it’s even really taken off? 

 

Lost in his thoughts, Merlin doesn’t notice Doctor Wilson leave, or hear Gaius talking to him about where he’d go to physio, and what season he’d be able to compete in next, and, and, and.

 

He gets discharged from the hospital the next day, and sent home with a pair of crutches and some painkillers. Like crutches and painkillers are going to help him now. Once he’s home, and on his couch, it’s hard to find the motivation to move again. 

 

Gaius leaves him there with the promise that he’ll be back in a few days to check up on him. The numbness that came on him in the hospital feels like it’s latched onto his soul; draining all the motivation from him. 

 

A month from now, the 2016 World Champs were taking place. He was supposed to be there; supposed to _win._ He had been the clear favourite, the whole world was watching him, and now… 

 

Now he was stuck on his couch, barely able to walk without assistance. 

 

***

 

“Merlin? You here?” Gwen walks into Merlin’s apartment, slipping the key he’d given her in her pocket. 

 

A grunt echoes from the sitting room. Gwen presses her lips together. She’d hoped that Merlin would be dealing with this gracefully, but it wasn’t seeming good. She walked into the sitting room to see Merlin slumped on the couch, ankle propped up on his coffee table. 

 

His hair was messy and unkempt, curling around his ears. It looked like he’d not moved for at least a day, he had about a week’s worth of shaggy beard, and she could smell the stench coming off him from the doorway.

 

“Oh, Merlin…” she sighs. 

 

“What?” he asks, looking over at her. His eyes are dull, and his voice is flat. 

 

It’s like all the happiness has been sucked out of him. She crosses the room and sits down next to him, trying not to look too offended by the smell. 

 

“When was the last time you showered?” she asks. 

 

Merlin shrugs. His stomach growls, loud and prolonged. 

 

“Forget that-- when was the last time you ate something?” 

 

He shrugs again. Gwen raises her eyebrows, and breathes a deep sigh.

 

“Okay. Come on, up you get,” she says, standing up. She picks up his crutches and holds them out to him. 

 

He looks at her, seeming determined to stay put. She stares back, levelling him with the same look she uses to send her competition running. 

 

“Up.” she commands. 

 

Merlin stands up.

 

Slowly, and he has to grab ahold of her arm to steady himself. But he stands. He reaches for the crutches, and watches her. 

 

“Okay. You’re going to have a shower and shave, and I’m going to cook you dinner. Let’s go,” she says decisively, spinning to walk towards the bathroom. 

 

She goes through the door before she pauses, and smiles to herself when she hears Merlin grumble and start to follow. She makes sure to grab the silicone sock the doctors gave him to shower in before going to the bathroom and starting the shower. Merlin gets to the bathroom just after she does, and hovers in the doorway eyeing up the sock. 

 

“Gwen,” he says, and his voice cracks. 

 

“It’s okay,” she says, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m here. I’ll help you,” 

 

He closes his eyes, and she watches his adam’s apple bob in his throat. When he opens his eyes again, they’re gleaming with moisture in the light. 

 

“C’mon, take your pants off and I’ll help you into this,” she picks up the sock. 

 

Merlin nods, and moves to the counter to set his crutches down, before pulling off his sweats. He’s wearing boxers underneath, and Gwen tries not to think about how long he’s been wearing them for. She kneels and wrestles the sock over the cast, trying not to jostle it too much. Merlin grasps the sink with one hand, and with the other he tries to help best as he can. 

 

When the sock is on, Merlin gives her the ghost of what might one day turn into a smile. 

 

“Thank you,” he says, and she knows how much he means it. 

 

“No problem,” she smiles back at him. “Now get in the shower, you stink,” 

 

Merlin snorts, and pointedly stares at the door. 

 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, I’ve seen your dick before, and how do you think you’re gonna get from here to there without falling, idiot?” she rolls her eyes. 

 

Gwen and Merlin have a long history which started at the tender age of five, when they started skating at the same rink. They grew up together, skating the same competitions and learning the same moves. They considered moving into couples skating together at some stage, but as Merlin’s talents grew, Gwen realised that she was only going to hold him back from his full potential. She made it to the Sochi Games as well, but didn’t do half as well, only gaining a medal with the team, and placing seventh herself. 

 

They were sixteen at those games, and so caught up in the excitement of competing at such a big event that they got carried away. They wound up losing their virginity to each other the night after Merlin won silver, and dated for one year afterwards, before realising that they were better as friends. A year on from that and they were thick as thieves, their failed relationship only serving to make them closer. 

 

Merlin is the closest thing to family that she has left, after her father died and her brother cut her out of his life. She loves him like nothing else in this world, and knows that he’d do the exact same thing for her if need be. 

 

“Hurry up, you smell toxic, honestly,” Gwen tugs at his shirt. 

 

Merlin pulls his shirt over his head, then drops his boxers and takes Gwen’s arm. She helps him into the shower carefully, gives him orders to wash for twice as long as he thinks he should and to call if he needs anything, then goes to the kitchen to get some food started. 

 

As she cooks she thinks back to the competition. She’d been on the side of the ice, watching Merlin perform when the accident happened. He’d started his routine with all the usual flawlessness and grace he held, and the first half of it was going spectacularly. He nailed his first jump - a quad lutz - and the cannonball spin that followed was impeccable. 

 

The trouble came when he went in for his combination. His triple axel started well, he got the height and the rotations, but landed with a slight wobble. Her breath caught in her throat. The follow through to his triple toe wasn’t as smooth as it could be, and when he left the ground he didn’t get the height he needed for the triple rotation. 

 

Gwen’s heart sped up. Her nails dug into her palm. She’d seen him practice this combination so many times that she knew that this one was off, and judging by the expression Merlin had on his face, he knew it too. He seemed to hover in the air, seconds away from disaster, for an eternity. She felt a scream building in her throat almost before he touched the ground.

 

Then his skate collided with the ice at just the wrong angle, and down he went. His elbow hit hard, driving his forearm into his ribs, and his head lashed back and hit the ice with a crack. Gwen could hear someone screaming his name, and dimly realised that it was her. 

 

The medics come rushing out onto the ice, and she can hear the commentators spectating over what exactly it was that went wrong - ‘his axel seemed so perfect, so what went wrong with the relatively simple toe-loop?’ 

 

She remembers watching him get carted out of the arena, and it was the worst she’d felt since her father died. 

 

The women's free skate had been that afternoon; the last session of the competition, and she wasn’t quite sure how exactly she managed to medal. She remembers the commentators saying how expressionless she’d been - both during the skate and after, in the kiss and cry when her score was announced - but how could she have been happy when her best friend in the entire world had been whisked away in an ambulance not five hours earlier? 

 

***

 

After eating and showering Merlin does feel better. He imagines that when he shaves he might feel almost human again. Gwen, bless her soul, had barged her way in and kicked him out of his funk. It was tough, knowing that a week and a half ago he was on track to the 2018 Olympics, and now he had an almost impossible amount of work ahead of him to get back to the same level. 

 

_ Almost  _ impossible, he reminds himself. If anyone could do it, he could. 

 

“Gwen,” he says.

 

“Yeah?” she looks at him, touches his arm. 

 

“I love you, you know that?” he smiles at her; his first since he fell. 

 

“Oh, Merlin. Of course I know that,” she grins back. “I love you, too,” 

 

It’s such a shame they didn’t work out romantically, he thinks. It would have made things so much easier. 

 

“Merlin,” Gwen says suddenly, breaking the moment. “Promise me that you’ll get better, that you’ll compete again,”

 

“I’ll try, Gwen, but--” 

 

“No, Merl, you  _ have _ to get better. Watching you fall, that was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen,”

 

Merlin looks at her, and is startled to see that she has tears in her eyes. 

 

“I was so scared for you,” she whispers. 

 

Gwen takes a deep breath, and leans her head on his shoulder. He settles his arm around her, pulls her close and thanks his lucky stars that he has her in his life. He listens to her breathe; reminds himself that as long as he has her he’ll be alright - and he makes a promise to himself that he’ll make it to PyeongChang, if only to make Gwen feel better. What better motivation would he need?

 

***

 

The weeks pass, and before he knows it he’s heading back to the hospital to get the pins removed, and the cast refitted tighter. It brings back all the pain and discomfort of the first week, and he spends a day moping before remembering his promise to Gwen. At least he’s finally getting the hang of the crutches now. 

 

Gaius comes over one day and they hash out how his training was going to work when he gets back on his feet. He’ll go to physio first; spend the morning there, and then head to the rink to build up strength again - alternating days on ballet and in the spin room, and then actually on the ice. 

 

He starts working his core and upper body while his ankle is still in the cast - he can’t afford to get sloppy just because he’s injured. Besides, the cast adds extra weight to his leg raises without having to strap them on. It’s an advantage, really. 

 

When Gwen comes over next, they watch clip after clip of competition footage to try and figure out what the best comeback routine would be. It needs to be daring and bold, and worth a lot of points, because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this right. He’s going to make everyone who’s ever doubted that they can come back after an injury see that there’s nothing that can hold you back if you’re capable and determined - and by God, is Merlin determined. 

 

He has to do the combination again. Gwen wasn’t sure, and she’d said there was no harm in doing something else, but. 

 

He  _ had _ to do the combination again. For himself, to prove that he can. 

 

It’s not even a hard combination to manage, either - and that’s maybe the worst thing about it. Sure, the triple axel is a hard jump, but when he lands it successfully half of his propulsion into the loop is the elation of completing the axel. 

 

For now, the hardest part is waiting. He can’t wait to be on the ice again. Sorting out competition routines, and costumes, and dealing with the press, and winning medals - those are all great things, but what he wants most is just the feeling of the ice beneath his blades again. He longs for it. It’s what drives him through the pain. 

 

***

 

“Thanks for coming,” Merlin says, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair.

 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Gwen replies, smiling. 

 

“I’m scared,” he confesses. “What if I can’t do it?” 

 

“You will,” Gwen says, not a doubt in her mind.

 

“But what if I can’t?” 

 

Gwen looks at Merlin, and sees the very real fear behind his eyes. She takes his hand; squeezes it tight. 

 

“You will,” she says again firmly, locking eyes with him.

 

She watches his fear die down a bit, and touches his face with her other hand. She smiles again, and he smiles tightly back. She watches him take a deep breath, and nod slightly. 

 

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

 

“Oh, you’d be dead within a week, for sure,” she says, laughing. 

 

Merlin grins at her - a proper grin, and those are hard to come by at the moment. 

 

“Okay, Arthur, you’re all set for now. Take it easy until our next session, same time next week,” Kilgharrah, the physio, says, walking out of the office.

 

With him is a broad, muscular, blond man. He’s using crutches to help him walk, and there’s a brace strapped to his left knee. He’s got that kind of effortless air of historical attractiveness, with a chiseled jawline belonging on a model, and the type of eyes that can see into someone's soul. Merlin stares at him, and feels his cheeks colour slightly. 

 

The man’s eyes sweep the room, and they lock on to Merlin’s. They hold him hostage for a second, and Merlin hears his heart thudding in his ears. He breaks first, and turns to look at Gwen. She’s staring at him, eyebrows raised, and Merlin’s blush darkens. 

 

“Okay, do I need to leave?” she murmurs, a smirk playing on the corner of her mouth. “Because if you need a moment with Blondie over there…” 

 

Merlin shoves her, and in the time it takes him to look back over, the man has turned away as well. 

 

_ Arthur _ , he thinks. There’s some irony in that, he’s sure of it. 

 

“Ah, Merlin, good. I’ll just be a moment, just let me reset my area,” Kilgharrah addresses him, before ducking back into his office. 

 

Merlin nods, his eyes wandering back over to the blond man. He’s sat down opposite Merlin and Gwen, and is fiddling with the straps on his brace, tightening and adjusting where they sit. Merlin’s eyes drift to the muscles in his forearms, rippling as he pulls the fabric, and his  _ hands-- _

 

Merlin swallows, and feels his breath catch in his throat. He mutters a curse under his breath.

 

“What did you say?” Gwen asks, looking at him. 

 

“Nothing,” Merlin replies. Too late, he realises that it’s the wrong answer - Gwen’s eyes get this evil type of gleam in them, and he can just  _ tell _ that she’s about to say something he’d get major embarrassment from. 

 

“It’s just my ankle,” he says quickly, interrupting her from speaking. 

 

She levels her gaze at him. He stares back, fighting down the blush from his cheeks. She raises an eyebrow at him. He looks blankly back.

 

He knows from experience how long this could go on for, so he’s glad when Kilgharrah interrupts. 

 

“Alright Merlin, come on in,” 

 

Merlin breaks first, and reaches for his crutches. He levers himself up, and limps over to the office. He’s caught up in his thoughts - suddenly, he’s remembered all his previous anxiety about the appointment. He’d had his cast taken off three days before, and his leg looks frails compared to his healthy ankle. His skin is even more pasty then usual, and he doesn’t even want to think about walking without the crutches yet. Today though - today they were going to see what he could do. This was where the hard work began. 

 

In the office, his heart starts beating a thousands beats a minute. 

 

“Gwen,” he whispers, reaching for her hand. 

 

She grasps his hand, strong and firm - a lighthouse in the churning sea of his nerves. Kilgharrah closes the door, and turns to face them. 

 

“Right, Merlin, let’s get started,”

  
  


***

 

“One more step, come on Merlin,” Gwen begs.

 

Merlin’s face is screwed up with the effort. He’s got beads of sweat on his forehead, and his knuckles are white on the bar. His ankle is throbbing something awful, and he wants to stop - but first, he has to get through three more steps. God, who knew that walking could be so difficult? If this is what it’s like for him to walk, he’d hate to think of trying to skate. 

 

Gritting his teeth, he steps forward again - then again, and then one last time. 

 

“Good job,” Kilgharrah says, the bloody sadist. “I think we can stop there today,” 

 

Merlin sighs with relief, and slips his arms into his crutches as Gwen hands them to him. Kilgharrah had prodded and poked and turned Merlin’s ankle so many times it felt like it was going to drop off - then he’d commanded Merlin to get to walking again, guiding onto the learning matt.

 

Merlin was about ready to strangle the old man his ankle was so sore. 

 

“Good start today, Merlin,” Kilgharrah says, helping him to sit down again. “Once we’ve got you back on your feet and walking we can start to work on getting you back on the ice again,” 

 

Kilgharrah straps the brace back onto Merlin’s ankle, then helps him to slide on his shoe. 

 

“Thanks,” Merlin mutters, not feeling very grateful.

 

“I know it’s hard right now - and this will likely be the hardest part of your recovery. Learning to walk again is tricky, but we have to start with the basics,” 

 

Merlin nods. He’s exhausted, and he just wants to go home. 

 

“We’ll book you in for another appointment in two days - enough to give you some to rest, but not enough for your ankle to stiffen up completely,” Kilgharrah continues, pulling out an appointment card. 

 

Taking the card, Merlin sighs again. He feels like Sisyphus, pushing a rock of progress up a hill only for it to fall back down and crush him on the way. Every time he feels like he’s gotten somewhere, something else comes along and sets him back to square one. 

 

***

 

The ice glistens tantalizingly in front of him. Merlin’s fingers tremble as he tightens the laces on his boots. It’s his first time going back on the ice since the incident, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is about killing him. Merlin takes a deep breath in. His hands are shaking as he straightens up, and the air feels trapped in his chest. 

 

He grips the railing tight and steps forwards, placing first one foot, then the other onto the ice. Merlin stands for a second, mentally preparing himself for the moments to come. He takes another deep breath, then releases the railing and pushes off, gliding forwards. 

 

Gaius is waiting in the middle of the arena for him, but Merlin does a few laps before heading over. He soaks in the feeling of the ice beneath his blades again - but it isn't the same as it was before. His ankle feels weak and unsteady under him. At that moment, however, he doesn’t particularly care how his ankle is feeling - all he care about is the fact that he’s finally back on track to competing, and that it seems all his hard work is paying off.

 

*** 

 

Gwen arrived late to Merlin’s session, and he was already on the ice when she got there. He was gliding around the rink like he’d never left, face lifted high, a blissful smile spread across it. 

 

He looked like he’d come home after a long trip away - which, she mused, was true, in a way. This rink was their home. 

 

She sat on a bench and watched as Gaius put Merlin through the paces. It was just basic stuff, building the strength back up in his muscles before he got to anything too intense. She knew that he’d had a ballet session that morning as well, and her own muscles ached a bit in empathy for the stiffness he’d be feeling tomorrow. 

 

It’s hard for her to not to feel the tiniest bit jealous of him. Even after all this time away from the ice, Merlin still possesses the type of natural grace and ease that some skaters work for their entire career. It’s a little bit infuriating, if she’s being honest. 

 

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the man walk in until he’s standing right beside her. 

 

“Hey,” he says, shaking her out of her daze.

 

“Hi,” she responds, looking up at him.

 

It’s the blond man from the physio, with the bad knee - the one who always seemed to have appointments before Merlin. 

 

“You’re from the Doctor Kilgharrah as well, right?” she questions.

 

“Yeah. Arthur,” he says, sitting down next to her and holding out his hand. 

 

“Gwen,” she replies, shaking it. 

 

“That’s Merlin Emrys, right?” he points out to Merlin on the ice. 

 

Gwen is immediately suspicious. The last thing they need today is some reporter getting wind of the fact that Merlin is training again. 

 

“Oh! I’m just wondering - I’m actually skating in the next session, so,” Arthur says abruptly, noticing the look on her face.

 

“Oh, in that case. Yeah, it is,” she smiles. Her instincts are telling her to trust him. “You skate as well? I’ve not seen you around,” 

 

“Yeah,” Arthur lifts up a bag. “Ice hockey, so that’s probably why,” 

 

“Right. Yeah, I heard you guys were practising here occasionally,” 

 

“Yeah, Coach also thinks it’s a good idea for me to build strength somewhere more ‘out of the way’,” Arthur makes little quote marks around the words, and pulls a face.

 

Gwen laughs. 

 

“So, Arthur, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” she inquires.

 

Arthur’s expression goes sour, and he rubs his knee. The brace is gone, and she wonders if he’s got strapping tape like Merlin. 

 

“Dislocated my kneecap,” he grunts. “You? You don’t seem particularly injured,” 

 

Gwen winces at the diagnosis. 

 

“No,” she says. “Just support,” 

 

“Are you his girlfriend?” Arthur asks. He sounds curious, like he’s trying to get a read on something. 

 

“Merlin’s?” Gwen laughs again. “No, no. We tried that one and it didn’t end-- well, let’s just say that he’s gayer than a Flamingo in drag,” 

 

It’s Arthur’s turn to laugh now - deep and warm and mellow.

 

“That certainly paints an interesting picture,” he says. 

 

Gwen smiles. Something about Arthur just makes her like him. 

 

“Gwen!” Merlin shouts suddenly. 

 

He’s stepping off the ice, pulling the caps on his blades. There’s an expression of utter ecstasy on his face, and Gwen can’t help but grin back. 

 

“Excuse me a moment,” she says to Arthur, then stands up and heads over to Merlin. 

 

Merlin scoops her up into a massive bear hug the second she gets close enough. She hugs him back, smiling wider. It’s the happiest she’s seen him since the incident. 

 

“So, how was it?” she asks when he releases her. 

 

His grin falls a little, and she can just about see some of the joy leaching out of him. 

 

“It feels different.” he says. “Like I have to be so much more careful now,” 

 

“Well, you weren’t going to get it back overnight,” she tries for a lighthearted approach. “Come, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” 

 

Merlin grumbles a little bit about wanting to make the most of his time, but lets her lead him over to where Arthur is still sat. 

 

“Merlin, Arthur. Arthur, Merlin,” she introduces them.

 

“Hey,” Arthur says, smiling charmingly. 

 

“Hi,” Merlin breathes. 

 

He shoots her a glare, but it’s 100% worth it to see the colour his cheeks flush when Arthur shakes his hand. 

 

***

 

Merlin’s ecstatic. He’s certain that he’s never been so happy to be on the ice in his entire life, and he can’t remember the last time he trained this hard. Gwen is improving steadily as well - they’ve always gotten better in tandem. He feels her leaps and spins in his own heart, and mirrors them in his training. 

 

Then there’s Arthur. They’ve been seeing each other frequently since they first met, and Merlin’s pretty besotted. Arthur’s fantastic - he’s smart, good at what he does, and most of all he  _ gets  _ it. He’d dislocated his knee during a match, and he knows what it’s like to go through months of rehabilitation to set foot on the ice again. 

 

It’s such a refreshing change of pace - not that Gwen and Gaius aren’t great, but there’s something to be said about having someone who just understands without him having to try explain it. 

 

They go on first one date, then another, only a short while after they first meet. Being with Arthur is like breathing - it’s easy, and when he goes without for too long his insides start to ache. Merlin feels that he should probably be slightly worried that he’s falling too hard too fast; but then, he thinks, Arthur seems to be just as besotted, so he’s pretty sure he’s not in any danger. 

 

The first night Merlin spends at Arthur’s apartment, they don’t even get up to anything. Instead they spend all night talking to each other across the pillow, secrets and thoughts spilling out like a tap turned on high until their voices go hoarse. They fall asleep nose to nose, hands tangled together and legs intertwined, and in the morning Arthur makes him pancakes. 

 

(The second time Merlin stays the night, he loses his voice for a different reason.)

 

It’s perfect. 

 

***

 

Gwen can’t remember the last time she saw Merlin this happy. His mood is reflected in the way he’s performing - he’s spinning and spinning across the ice, almost like he’s flying. The look on his face the first time he completes a triple axel after the incident almost feels like the entire thing was worth it.

 

Still, between all the training and Merlin getting together with Arthur, she feels like they never get to spend any quality time together anymore - which is exactly why she’s heading over to his apartment now. She’s got a bag of groceries in her hand, and plans to cook dinner in place from training yesterday.

 

She pulls the key out of her pocket and unlocks the door, humming her routine music under her breath as she does. 

 

“Merlin?” she calls. 

 

She doesn’t hear him reply, but she continues anyway, heading over to the kitchen bench so she can plonk the groceries down. Shaking her wrists out, she hears a satisfying pop and smiles to herself. 

 

“Merl?” she calls again. 

 

Still hearing no response, she sighs and heads towards his bedroom. Knowing him, he’d probably just fallen asleep after training again. After being out for so long he’d be exhausted from the intensity of it all. She knew that when she’d been out for a week or two on holiday she was always shattered when she came back, so she can hardly imagine how he feels. 

 

Gwen knocks lightly on the door before opening it, then shrieks immediately, clapping a hand over her eyes. There’s a yelp from the direction of the bed, and she peeks through her fingers to see Arthur pulling on a pair of pants. She shutters her fingers closed again immediately, and her mouth starts babbling away from her brain. 

 

“Sorry! Sorry, I was just here to make dinner, remember Merlin, we talked about it yesterday? I knocked but you didn’t say anything so I used the spare because my arms were killing me from the weight of the grocery bags, then I called your name but you didn’t say anything, so I just assumed you were sleeping after training because it gets super exhausting and--” 

 

“Gwen!” Merlin shouts. 

 

Gwen stops talking. 

 

The room takes a collective breath in. Gwen lowers her hand from her eyes. Arthur’s stood on the opposite side of the room, fully dressed so quickly that Gwen wonders if he was a quick change artist in a previous life. Merlin is stood at the foot of the bed, sweats on and a shirt dangling from his outstretched hand. 

 

“Sorry about that,” Merlin says. “Guess we lost track of time,” 

 

Gwen snorts, eyes darting from one boy to the other. A smile slowly makes its way across Merlin’s face, and they make eye contact. There’s a beat, and then a laugh bubbles its way up out of her chest, and before she knows it they’re both cracking up. 

 

“A… A-Arthur,” Merlin wheezes, reaching for the blond man. 

 

Arthur has a bemused expression on his face, but he crosses back to Merlin without hesitation. Gwen presses her lips together in an effort to sober up, and darts her eyes from Arthur to Merlin and back again.

 

“Gwen,” he nods towards her. 

 

“Arthur,” she grins at him. “Didn’t realise you were here,”

 

Arthur exhales heavily, then chuckles a little. 

 

“You don’t say,” he comments. 

 

Merlin dimples towards her, then kisses Arthur’s cheek. 

 

“Dinner?” he asks, pulling his shirt on. 

 

He looks so ridiculous with his hair fluffed in all directions that Gwen doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s on backwards. Instead she smiles and says,

 

“I got stuff for Pizza. Are you joining us Arthur?” 

 

Arthur hesitates, looking between them. Merlin bats his eyes, and Gwen smiles sweetly. 

 

“Okay,” he says slowly.

 

“Excellent. Let’s get started, I’m starved.” 

 

***

 

Merlin’s stuffed. He’s sat on the couch curled into Arthur’s side, Gwen’s head resting on his thigh, and a movie playing in the background. Gwen is humming under her breath again, and he recognises the music from her routine. She’s getting good, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if she medals at the Olympics next year. He doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that she’ll qualify for them. 

 

Arthur doesn’t think that he will, but the sports reporters following his comeback seem to be sure that he’ll make it - Arthur seems to think that it’s more to do with his father being a legendary Olympic Coach rather than anything else, but Merlin’s seen him play. He’s incredible. 

 

Ice hockey is such a different sport to figure skating. It’s all hard and fast, loud and exciting, like the complete polar opposite. Merlin’s watched Arthur practice a few times, and it scares him a little, the roughness of it all. He’s worried that Arthur will hurt himself again, this time worse. When he confided this in Arthur, the other man had just smiled wearily and said, 

 

“How do you think we all feel when you skate?” 

 

Merlin had simply gaped at him, jaw dropping and eyes widening. 

 

“Figure skating is nothing like ice hockey!” he’d protested.

 

“You’re right. It’s far more dangerous. There’s no sense to it, you just throw yourselves in the air for no good rea--” Arthur is cut off when Merlin pins him to the floor. 

 

They’d wrestled for a few moments, but it quickly turned into something messier; something that was all push and pull, and completely ice hockey. 

 

*** 

 

_ *Click*  _

 

Merlin blinks, spots dancing in his eyes. 

 

_ *Click* _

 

He presses his lips together, and speeds up his pace. Arthur and Gwen were waiting inside, if he could just make it a few more--

 

“Merlin! Merlin Emrys, here!” 

 

_ *Click* _

 

Justafewmore--

 

“Look here!”

 

“Excuse me, I’ll pardon you not to bother Mister Emrys,” Merlin is relieved to hear a familiar voice - and even more relieved to see the familiar disapproving eyebrows that accompany it. 

 

“Gaius,” he breathes. 

 

Gaius ushers him inside the building, leveling the reporters with a raised eyebrow and a scowl. 

 

“Merlin,” Gaius addresses him. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” 

 

Merlin shakes his head. His stomach is a mass of nerves, and he feels a little sick. This is more than just his usual pre-performance jitters.

 

“Merl, hey,” Arthur pulls him into a hug, kissing his cheek. 

 

Merlin smiles tightly at him, taps his fingers on his thigh nervously. 

 

His first competition back is today. It’s the national comp, so it’s not the biggest he’s competed in - but for Merlin, it feels like the biggest competition of his career. Bigger even than the last Olympics was. 

 

“You’re gonna do great,” Gwen says, smiling reassuringly at him. 

 

Merlin nods his head absently, mind miles away. 

 

“Better go get ready,” he mutters. “I’m on soon,”  

 

“Quite so,” Gaius says. 

 

Gaius starts to lead him towards the changing area, but Merlin is stopped when Arthur grabs his arm. Arthur looks at him intensely, blue eyes shining, before pulling him into a searing kiss. Merlin sinks into his arms, nerves fading away for the moment, emotions suspended. It’s all too soon when Arthur pulls away. 

 

“For luck,” he breathes, and Merlin gives him maybe his first proper smile of the day. 

 

“Thanks,” he whispers back, then lets Gaius guide him away. 

 

The changing room is packed with competitors and coaches alike, but there’s a momentary hush when he enters the room before chatter picks up again. He hadn’t announced that this would be his first competition back, but there had been plenty of speculation that it would. Some had thought that he might make an appearance at a smaller-scale club event, but he’d wanted to wait until he was sure he could succeed - and since it was getting relatively late in the domestic season, reporters were sure that he’d be at today’s comp. Word must have gotten out that he was there this morning for warm ups - hence the gaggle outside. 

 

… And the staring he’s currently on the receiving end of. 

 

Merlin sighs. They pass through the changing room quickly - he was already dressed, and he’d stepped out so he could do his makeup in peace. Makeup isn’t really all that common among male figure-skaters, but Merlin likes the extra level of flair that it brings. Today, he’d done a deep blue sweep over his eyelids out to his temples, bold and dramatic, complimenting the blue of his costume. 

 

There’s an announcement call for his group, and he finds himself stuck in the middle of a group of skaters, being herded out into the arena. Anxiety bubbles up in his throat, and he stops for a second, reaching out to grasp the nearest solid object.

 

“Gaius,” he gasps.

 

Gaius materialises at his side, and rests his hand on Merlin’s arm.

 

“Deep breath,” he says, voice calm and steady. 

 

Merlin takes a big breath in, and holds it in his lungs. His eyes brush over the seats, searching for a familiar face. His lungs burn, and he feels his heart pounding in his ears - then he finds a pair of shining brown eyes in the crowd, and everything else fades away. 

 

Gwen is smiling, but her eyes look slightly concerned. She nods at him, and gives him a thumbs up. His chest lightens as he breathes out. Merlin straightens, drops has hand back to his side. Gaius nods at him, then leads him over to his seat. When he looks back towards Gwen, she’s beaming, and he feels the warmth of it in his heart. 

 

Glancing towards the ice, he catches a glimpse of someone’s performance before he catches himself. He doesn’t do well watching other people perform on competition days, it just puts him off. Instead, he reaches for his skates and toes off his sneakers to busy himself with making sure everything is sitting right. 

 

When he’s finished that, he taps his fingers nervously on his thigh until Gaius finally sighs and presses a hand onto his. 

 

“You’re going to be fine,” Gaius says. “Just remember what we’ve practiced.” 

 

Merlin nods, and takes a few deep breaths - then suddenly the arena errupts with applause, and the skater before him is finished. He tracks the sweepers with his eyes, watching as they pick up roses and bouquets. There’s a lot of them; the skater must have been good. He tries not to let it bother him.

 

The next few minutes go by in a blur, and before he knows it he’s heading to the edge of the arena. His name crackles over the loudspeakers, and he pulls his guards off his skates. As he hands them to Gaius, he closes his eyes for a second, blocking out the noise of the crowd and everything else going on around him. When he opens his eyes again, he finds that he’s no longer worried about his skate. He’s practiced and practiced, and he  _ knows _ , in his heart of hearts, that he can do this. 

 

As Merlin steps out onto the ice, he feels a smile start to play at the edge of his mouth. He zones in again to the roar of the crowd, cheering him on as he glides around the edge of the rink. He catches sight of Arthur in the corner of his eye, and the grin on his face is brighter than the fucking sun, warming his chest and filling his bones with fire.

 

He takes his starting position in the middle of the arena, the sudden hush of the crowd pounding in his ears. This is where he belongs. Right here, in this moment, he feels invincible. The opening notes of his music float out from the speakers, bouncing around the rink.

 

Merlin grins. 

 

He starts to skate.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend watching this video for context: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZxDCfgVfTc  
> Yuzuru Hanyu set a world record with this routine, I'm pretty sure, and he also performs in it several of the moves mentioned in this fic, most notably the triple axel triple toe combination.


End file.
